


Greet each dawn in open arms

by randomdestielfangirl



Series: Season 12 coda fics [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cuddles, Dean gets a lot of cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s12e03 The Foundry, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e03 The Foundry, lot of cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomdestielfangirl/pseuds/randomdestielfangirl
Summary: There’s sharp intake of breath from the other end. He knows he’s crossed a line here, said something that is almost unforgivable. Dean waits for Cas to start coldly telling him off before hanging up in a rage. He deserves it. He’s a hateful person who pushes everyone away. 
No wonder Cas couldn’t wait to leave.
Even his own mother can’t stand him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was so heartbroken by this episode that I had to write this.. not entirely a fix-it though. Un-beta'd

Dean keeps his eyes fixed on the floor beside Sam’s shoes. He can hear his mother’s footsteps as they ascend the stairs none too gently. His head is pounding and the clang of the main door as it slams shut threatens to overpower it for a minute.

Neither of them move, hoping that just maybe—

Maybe she’ll turn around.

They wait, but no footsteps come back. Dean sees Sam’s legs buckle as he stumbles away, but he can’t bring himself to go after his little brother. His vision blurring, he collapses into the chair beside him, head in his hands.

_Everybody leaves you, Dean. You noticed?_

In his mind, the image of fake Mary blends in with the newer, shorter haired version.

_Mommy, Daddy. Even Sam._

How much longer till Sam left him too? Dean sucks in a shuddering gasp and runs his hand over his face, willing the voice away. He fumbles for his phone and begins calling Cas before he even realizes it.

“Dean?” Cas sounds so, so tired.

“Cas.” Dean gasps into the phone.

“Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean coughs, fighting to get his voice back to normal.

“Nothing man. Just wanted to check in with you. Any leads on the devil?”

“We were too late.” Cas sighs.

“Who’s we?” Dean asks a little too sharply.

Cas hesitates a minute before replying.

“Well Crowley’s looking for Lucifer too and as our purposes are aligned for now—”

Dean sees red.

“You’re working with Crowley?” he shouts. “What, I wasn’t good enough for you to work with? You went with Crowley?”

“I didn’t go looking for him, Dean. He approached me with valuable information and I needed him.”

“Sure I’m sure he was real charitable.” Dean sneers into the phone. “I’m sure he was just helping you from the goodness of his heart.”

“Dean—”

“Have you forgotten how much you fucked up the last time you teamed up with him?”

There’s sharp intake of breath from the other end. He knows he’s crossed a line here, said something that is almost unforgivable. Dean waits for Cas to start coldly telling him off before hanging up in a rage. He deserves it. He’s a hateful person who pushes everyone away.

No wonder Cas couldn’t wait to leave.

Even his own mother can’t stand him.

“I— I promise that’ll never happen again.” Cas whispers.

Dean didn’t think it was possible to feel worse than he felt five minutes ago. Cas sounds fucking broken. Dean broke him.

“Cas.” he breathes, eyes welling up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just— Cas—”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Mom’s gone, Cas.”

“Gone. Gone where? Was she—”

“She left.”

There’s a silence.

“Cas?” Dean whispers. “Please can you—?”

“I’m on my way.” Cas says and hangs up.

+

Dean’s almost asleep, his head in his arms on the table, when the sound of hurried footsteps rouse him. The chair falls with a deafening crash as he stands up.

“Dean?” Cas’s calls out, his voice a little panicked.

Dean rushes to the stairs to meet Cas halfway. The other man’s hair is more ruffled than usual and his tie is askew.

“You’re all right.” Cas breathes.

Dean stands frozen, just looking at him. Cas opens his mouth to say something, then seems to think the better of it. He grabs Dean’s arm and gently pulls him along the corridors to the showers.

“You smell of grave dirt and ectoplasm Dean. Go and take a shower.”

Dean obeys him in a daze, dumping his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. He can do the laundry later. The water is scalding, but it clears his head. He briskly washes his hair and puts on his robe, dripping water all over the floor as he pads along to his room. His night clothes are helpfully laid out on the bed.

He notices Cas’s trench coat as he’s toweling his hair dry, draped over the chair along with the rest of his suit and feels a warmth spread right down to his toes. The door creaks open gently and Cas comes in, dressed in an old blue T-shirt of Dean’s and a pair of faded pajama pants. He has two mugs of fragrant smelling tea in his hands, probably made from one of the many organic jars that Sam hoards in the pantry. 

“I put some honey in it.” Cas says, voice all velvet and gravel at the same time.

Normally Dean would make a token protest about how he hates tea, but he feels too raw now to pretend. He accepts it gratefully and the two of them sit quietly on the edge of the bed.

“Sam’s asleep.” Cas says after a while, answering Dean’s unspoken question. “I healed his minor injuries from today.”

“Thanks Cas.” Dean says, the tea a soothing warmth down his throat.

The bed creaks a little as Cas finishes with his tea and places the mug on the floor by the night stand. He sits back, leaning against the headboard and beckons to Dean. Dean hesitates for all of a minute before gulping the remaining tea down and curling against Cas, sitting between his legs. He shudders as Cas throws the covers over them and wraps Dean in his arms.

Dean turns his head into Cas’s chest and nuzzles at his collarbone. Cas smells of fresh laundry and chamomile, his heart beating a steady rhythm in Dean’s ear.

“A woman slammed her door in my face today when I went to make inquiries.” Cas says, the rumble of his voice soothing. “I suspect it was because of my alias. Or Crowley’s.”

“What did you use?”

“I called myself Beyoncé. I noticed you and Sam tended to use popular musicians for your aliases. Crowley said he wanted to be called Agent Z.” Cas says it with such injured innocence that Dean barks out a startled laugh.

“She wasn’t impressed huh? Maybe she wasn’t part of the Beyhive.”

“What do bees have to do with this?”

Dean laughs a little hysterically, the tears that he had been holding back for hours finally falling. Cas tightens his grip around him, his finger smoothing over the short hairs at the back of Dean’s neck. Dean cries and cries, his breaths coming out in great shuddering gasps. And all the while Cas continues to hold him, murmuring soft Enochian in Dean’s ears, the very weight of his presence grounding Dean.

They don’t talk. Dean doesn’t gripe about Crowley and Cas doesn’t ask about Mary. He continues to hold Dean till he stops sobbing and then gently wipes his face with the edge of the bed sheet. He looks at Dean, those blue eyes fathomless in their affection, and kisses Dean’s forehead, his swollen eyes, his cheekbones and jaw.

“Cas.” Dean murmurs, his face burning where Cas had kissed him.

Cas shushes him, holding Dean’s face carefully between his warm palms and finally brushes his lips against Dean’s.

Dean sighs into the kiss. Cas tastes faintly of honey, a sweet sensation that soothes more than it excites. Cas pushes him onto the mattress, turning off the bed side lamp before tucking Dean’s face against his heart.

“Cas.” Dean says, his eyes drooping.

“Mmmm?”

“Thank you.”

 

       

    

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at randomdestielfangirl.tumblr.com


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